Setsubou
by P. Franz
Summary: Longing. Sam's journey as she comes to accept things about herself.


**Randomly got the urge to write tonight, so here's a semi-long one shot. Not gonna be anything more, because of my lack of creativity as of late. Lemme know what you think. No spell check on my tablet, so forgive any errors. lol**

It must've been nearing 4 AM when I found myself on the fire escape outside her window. The streets below me were scattered with vehicles, mostly taxis, carrying passengers to and fro the city. There were a few pedestrians travelling the sidewalks, their feet carrying them swiftly along the concrete pathways, most in a hurry to get to nowhere in particular. I exhaled, my warm breath resembling a puff of smoke in the cold night air. A chill ran through my body as I held up my arm, hand in a fist, to tap gently on the window. With my knuckles no more than an inch from the glass, something stopped me. Fear, maybe? _What am I doing?_ I produced a breathy sigh and let my hand fall to my side. I wasn't really sure what was going on.

For a long time I had contemplated doing this, _telling_ her, and somehow I had convinced myself that tonight was the night it was going to happen. My mind made the conversation seem so effortless, but I knew it wasn't going to be. I knew I'd stumble over my words, laugh awkwardly, forget what I meant to say, or probably end up talking around the whole thing, avoiding the topic completely. Let's face it: when it came to vandalism, theft, or breaking and entering, I could perform well under pressure and worry-free. But, for some reason, when dealing with my feelings, I was a coward.

No, that wasn't true. I wasn't afraid; I just could never seem to put my thoughts into spoken words. If I tried, it always came out in short, choppy sentences separated by lots of "um"s and "uh"s. My words never meant what I wanted them to; every word I spoke came out wrong and was usually the exact opposite of what I was really thinking.

So, I wasn't really sure what made me think I could talk to Carly about how I felt. I sat down on the cold, metal floor of the fire escape, resting my elbows on my knees and burying my head in my hands. I shook my head, disappointed with myself. After two years of constant torment in knowing that I was falling in love with my best friend, of course I had convinced myself that these feelings weren't going to go away. I figured there was only one way they would, and I wasn't willing to throw away a great friendship because I couldn't deal with my emotions.

It hadn't alway been this bad, though. In the beginning, there were no butterflies in the pit of my stomach, no chills when our skin made contact, no deafening voice inside my head yelling at me to make a move. No, in the beginning there was only awkwardness. One day, everything was fine: being physically close to her was normal because we had been that way for as long as I could remember; when we slept in the same bed and she ended up nestled up to me the next morning, I didn't think twice about it. I would always just shake her abruptly and tell her to wake up.

Then, one morning I woke up and everything was different.

* * *

She was curled up in a ball, her head burrowed into my chest, sleeping so peacefully. That's the first time I realized something was off. Normally, I wouldn't have noticed her slowed breathing, the way her chest moved up and down ever so gently, or her warm breath that hit my skin and made me tingle. It wasn't a pleasant feeling that engulfed me; my nerves were shot, my mind running a million miles a minute. I wanted out of that position as quickly as possible. I scooted backwards off the bed, underestimating the distance to the edge, and fell to the floor with a thud. Carly's head popped up and she peered down at me with a smirk.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I, uhh, don't know what happened."

I stood up, rubbing my tailbone that had absorbed most of the fall.

"I, um, I gotta go. Just remembered my mom needs me to help clean the house today."

I made eye contact with her, but quickly looked away, pretending to scan the room for my bag that I knew was on the floor beside me.

"Since when do you clean?"

She laughed. I chuckled coarsely.

"Yeah, I..."

Another awkward laugh emerged from my lips. I looked at her again, pausing a second to try and control my rapid heartbeat.

"I'll call you later, Carl...y."

Suddenly, calling her the pet name I'd given her seemed inappropriate. I grabbed my bag and rushed out the door.

* * *

I called her the next day and told her I'd had a weird dream; that's why I had acted the way I did.

It was pretty much all downhill from there. Although, after that first incident, I learned to control myself better. I couldn't stop the bad feeling that came over me whenever she would touch me, or the need to run away when we made eye contact, though. For the longest time, I was reading too much into the way she acted towards me, always imagining that she was flirting with me, and it freaked me out because I wasn't comfortable with a girl being that way towards me. I was still convinced that I was straight at the time.

It took me nearly a year to realize that, the whole time, I was actually just fantasizing about things I wished would happen. Carly hadn't actually acted any differently; I had just wildly misinterpreted _everything_.

* * *

This guy in my gym class invited me to a party one weekend. Jason, I think his name was. I asked Carly to accompany me, but she had to go out of town with Spencer, so I ended up going alone.

There was an enormous amount of alcohol at the party, lots of which I partook in. Things got pretty crazy that night. There were kids from every school in Seattle attending, some college students, and no adults. Everything took place at this Jason kid's house. Although, I wouldn't have called it a house as much as a mansion. Beside the three beer pong championship tables were three or four kegs of beer and the island in the kitchen had been turned into a full-service bar; it was stocked with alcohol I'd never even heard of before.

Around about 2:15 AM, because the grandfather clock in the living room had just chimed twice a little bit ago, I was sitting on the couch watching the beer pong tournament come to an end, choking down what seemed like my millionth red Solo cup full of Bud Light. Loud dance music was still blaring in the background, and there were still little groups of people spread about. Because the quarterback of Ridgeway's football team had captured my attention by doing a keg stand, I hadn't noticed the dark haired, scantily clad girl throw herself down on the couch beside me. It wasn't until she had her fingers intertwined in my hair that I realized she was even there. The awkward hit me like a ton of bricks. I didn't recognize her, so I assumed she went to another school. Maybe she was in college, as she did look a bit older. She asked my name, then slurred hers as I slowly leaned away from her.

"Saaaarrrraaaa."

She offered her hand and I shook it.

"Nice to meet you."

I almost fainted at what she said next.

"You're hot. Can I kiss you?"

She was obviously drunk. Then again, so was I. I realized at that moment the comparison of Carly's actions and this girl's. They were nothing alike.

Sara put her hand on my leg, I guessed trying to coax an answer out of me. And out came awkward Sam.

"I, uhh..."

Because I had frozen and not reacted in time, she took that as a "yes" and grabbed my face, pulling my lips into hers.

Kissing a girl was nothing like kissing a guy...it was ten times better. Her lips were so soft and delicate, and the feeling of her hand gently caressing my cheek was surprisingly intoxicating. I felt like a teenage boy going through puberty. This spine-tingling chill came over me and my body rose in temperature. I was surprised to find that my reflexes didn't automatically kick in and push her away. I didn't really want her to stop, but she did.

"You're a good kisser."

She smiled at me, then got up and wobbled back into the kitchen. I imagine the look on my face was hilarious, given the situation. I'm pretty sure my mouth was hanging open, I probably had lines across my forehead because my eyebrows were raised so high. My eyes were wide but blank; I was in deep thought.

Why did that kiss make me feel that way? Why had I wanted it to happen again? The more important questions...why had I wanted Sara to be Carly? And why was Carly the only one I was able to think of afterwards? In the back of my mind, I knew the answer to every one of these questions. It was a bittersweet realization. On one hand, I finally understood why I was so perturbed while around her, but on the other, I was attracted to my best friend. At that point, I couldn't be sure if it was pure attraction or something much more; but it was definitely something that I had been subconsciously ignoring for a long time.

* * *

I began to sob at the memory, unable to stop the choking sounds coming from my throat. Now, I had accepted what was and, instead of stressing about feeling awkward, I was stressing about how much I cared for her and how much I wanted to tell her about it.

I heard rustling above my head, and the window opened. Carly stuck her head out and looked down at me.

"Sam? What's wrong?"

I wiped my eyes and stood up.

"I just..."

I sighed.

"I need to tell you something."

**I know, I know, it needs more. I'll try. lol Thanks for reading!**


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